End Of Extinction
by The Lobster's Claw
Summary: Sequel to The Extinct Ally and Countdown To Extinction. No turning back. Eragon, Saphira, and all who have joined them shall make their last stand against Angvard. The fate of an entire realm lies in their hands. Will they truly be the ones to topple the death god? If they can't do it, no one else ever will.
1. Discussions and Beginnings

_**Now, in the ending A/N of Countdown To Extinction, I said that this story should be up in about seven months. Obviously, it has been much more and I am very, very, very, very, very, very SORRY! Now, most would writers would say that there is no excuse, but luckily enough, I have a legitimate excuse to save my sorry ass. School has not been very kind to me, and my chem class in particular has transformed into a constant pain in the ass. On the lesser side, I also have some shit I have to deal with elsewhere on this site. But I'm not one to forget. I have put this off for too long, and now it's FINALLY here. End Of Extinction-the sequel to The Extinct Ally and Countdown To Extinction, and the third and final installment in the Rise Of Extinction trilogy.**_

End Of Extinction

Chapter 1

_The scratching of the quill against the paper was the only noise in the wide, purple walled room, with its magnificent obsidian statues of the various creatures under his rule and watch. Although he could have taken the much easier route by simply asking Korchulan, the man would have probably laughed, and he would be put on the spot and mocked. There was no way to do that in the privacy of one's study, reading a sealed note._

"_To Your Most Prolific and Uppermost Majesty, Korchulan" Angvard began writing, "I would like to remind you of common courtesy, and the ever constant law of polite engagement, as I begin this letter. Now, if I argued my beliefs to you in public, I know quite well that you would-"_

_His writing was interrupted by the two elm doors leading into his study being thrown open. Angvard quickly placed the quill back into the bottle of ink and slid the parchment under his desk._

"_I presume that you have, at the very least, a sensible reason for barging into my study without even so much as a knock?" Angvard asked Jurtone. Jurtone was of the race that called themselves the Þgatorm, but were better known to the normal living beings such as the humans and dwarves as the gargoyles. Jurtone stood at approximately six feet and three inches, with a crooked nose and two bottom teeth that curved upwards out of the mouth, with the most distinguishing feature about him being his lack of horns and deep blue skin. It was because of his ability to literally store everything he knew within his brain and not forget it within a day that he had gotten the job of being Angvard's aide._

"_That is your fault for not locking the doors" Jurtone scoffed. Angvard couldn't help but smile underneath his hood. The other reason he had gotten the position as an aide was because, although he followed orders, he still had a backbone and was not afraid of pointing out the flaws in everything from the plans of a god to the most miniscule aspects of everyday existence._

"_Now" Jurtone continued, "I have come to tell you of the Greatest Forum, which is coming up in three weeks. As always, it shall take place in the Courtroom of Korchulan's palace."_

"_Shall the law of polite engagement still be in place?" Angvard asked, an idea forming in his head._

"_As always" Jurtone said._

"_Thank you for the reminder, Jurtone. You are dismissed."_

_Jurtone bowed before turning around and leaving, shutting the doors behind him with a resounding __**BOOM**__. Angvard let loose a sigh and relaxed in his seat._

_So, he didn't need a letter. He would just wait and then voice his opinions at the Greatest Forum, an annual meeting where the gods of all the races would have the chance to voice their opinions on whatever issue was nagging at them. Every god's opinion was treated equally and debated over, so there would be no chance of any mockery._

_Just in case, though, he stashed his letter away into the top right drawer. Maybe he would finish it tomorrow._

_Two days after the Siege of Aroughs;a tent near the eastern gate of Aroughs_

Eragon's back ached as he finally woke up after what seemed like a whole day of sleeping, even though he knew it had only been a few hours. He straightened out his back, and groaned as he felt the bones in his spine pop and shift. He splashed water from a nearby bowl onto his face, and as he looked at his reverberating reflection in the water, he could see the dark bags under his eyes. He sighed before he put on his formal clothes and combed his hair.

Eragon reached his mind out to try to contact Saphira, but found that she was still asleep. He didn't mind, though, and put his shoes on before pushing open the flap and walking out of the tent. Eragon was surprised to see quite a few people up and walking about, despite the fact that it looked to be only about an hour after dawn. Walking towards what used to be the royal courtyard, he received a few greetings of "Shadeslayer", but not as much as he did when they were still fighting against Galbatorix and the Empire. Eragon liked it, though, as he knew that it was not just him that deserved respect, but all who were willing to stand against Angvard and his madness.

He made it to the courtyard and got himself a wedge of cheese, two loaves of white bread, and four slabs of roasted ham. Sitting down at one of the many little circular "cafeteria" tables, he tried to eat his breakfast as fast as possible as he didn't feel like socializing at the moment, but his hopes were dashed as Arya suddenly sat down in front of him.

"Oh, hello, Arya" Eragon almost gasped as he just barely avoided choking on his breakfast.

"Hello" Arya said emotionlessly. Not coldly, like she had done before her death here at Aroughs several months before, but as if though she was bored and simply did not care.

After her death at the hands of Galbatorix several months ago, she had been resurrected as an undead slave in the service of the human death god Angvard. A short time before the Siege of Aroughs, she had been freed from him after attacking one of his other servants in defense. Arya had arrived late in the battle and had managed to save Eragon's life as he was being strangled by a resurrected Galbatorix, but had been knocked unconscious by a single punch from Galbatorix. Still, it had left Galbatorix vulnerable and allowed Saphira to burn him to death once and for all.

"So, how do you feel?" he asked uneasily. He had never been good at starting conversations, and in such a situation as this, it was pure torture.

Arya shrugged. "The lower portion of my nose is still dislocated, and my upper jaw still aches occasionally. The tremors are unpredictable and short, but still painful."

"As I would think" Eragon said. "Will you appear at the meeting today?"

"Of course" Arya sighed almost regrettably.

"Is there something bothering you?"

"Well, it's the fact that I've never enjoyed politics. The only reason I became an ambassador between the Varden and elves was because I wanted to get out of the royal court and be away from the imperial thoughts and influences of my mother. Now, the fact that I have to succeed my mother and lead the elves and participate in lengthy, boring meeting concerning the coordination of an attack...it's too much, and I have dealt with enough stress even before being killed and used by Angvard. People blame you for failures, and those who used to be your friends do not act naturally around you." She sighed slowly and heavily, looking down at her feet.

Eragon didn't bother to say anything. He himself still felt a similar burden, that is, to rebuild the Riders, and he used to be alright when people constantly bowed in his presence, but that was quite a while ago. He didn't like it that people felt obligated to respect him just because he rode a dragon and had killed a Shade. Indeed, without either of those, he was just another man who happened to use magic. That itself was not uncommon.

"If you need any help with your leadership, you could always ask me for help" Eragon reassured. He knew it was a pathetic and weak reassurance, but at leas he was trying.

"Thank you, Eragon. I should be going now" Arya said as she got up and walked away. He looked at her briefly before sighing. He wished he had been able to lift her spirits, but his poor social skills had grounded that before it could happen. Maybe that was why she had kept rejecting his advances.

He finished his breakfast and placed the plate into one of the racks before he walked into the huge castle which used to house the nobles of Aroughs.

_-Later that morning-_

Eragon sat in the leather chair, crushing himself between Nar Garzhvog's brother Skgahgrezh and the Ra'zac named Voriadd. The room was surprisingly large enough to contain two dragons (Saphira and Thorn) and a Lethrblaka, Voriadd's brother.

In total, there were ten individuals in the room:Eragon, Murtagh, Arya, Voriadd, Voriadd's Lethrblaka, Orik, Grimrr Halfpaw, Saphira, Thorn, Skgahgrezh, and Lord Däthedr. The point of the meeting was to determine how far the Resistance's progress had come, and what still needed to be done.

"Ahem" coughed as loudly as he could while being squished, and almost immediately, the room went silent. All looked directly at him. Eragon exhaled before he first turned to Murtagh.

"Starting with you, Murtagh:how goes trying to bring Nasuada back to life?" he asked. Murtagh had personally volunteered to steal back the body of Nasuada, the former leader of the Varden and one of Eragon and Saphira's closest friends but who had been slain by Galbatorix at Aroughs. Afterward, Murtagh had decided to try to find a way to resurrect her. Eragon knew it had something to do with his feeling towards her, but so long as his emotions did not interfere with the experiments, everything was alright.

Murtagh frowned. "Badly. I once opened my mind and began looking through her brain, and I said the words in the Ancient Language to try to get her soul back into her body. Suddenly, the body began twitching and I was overjoyed at first, but then the corpse opened its mouth and uttered a blood curdling screech that made me want to hide under my blankets. The screeching stopped quickly, though, and the body stopped moving" he explained.

Orik and Grimrr's faces visibly paled at the description of the screeching, and Däthedr shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Eragon himself could not deny that he would not want to be alone in a room with a screeching corpse.

"Well, I hope that you will be able to resurrect Nasuada before this war ends. We could use Nasuada's intelligence and leadership in the Resistance. She would be able to get us properly organized" Eragon said. There were several brief and quiet murmurs in agreement. This time turning to no one in particular, he asked, "Our next target is Urû'baen, to which we shall march northwards, and then finally, Belatona. But what of Dras-Leona? It too is in the central triangle with Belatona and Urû'baen, and I was told that over three hundred thousand of our soldiers were killed while defending the city while I was imprisoned."

It was Voriadd, to his right, who answered.

"It seems that the city has been too much trouble for our oh so powerful god! Just three days after Angvard's Army conquered Dras-Leona, the entire army went missing without a trace. Approximately thirty thousand more soldiers were sent to take the abandoned city, this time accompanied by several of the huge and hideous monsters from Angvard's realm. That army went missing a day later" Voriadd sneered.

Eragon was visibly shocked, and the others within the room were bewildered, and some began to argue.

"Oh? And how exactly do _you_ know this? Is this just some propaganda story you created to boost our spirits?" Orik asked skeptically.

"You seem to forget that I was under the control of Angvard. Do you really think he told me nothing?" Voriadd scoffed, annoyance in his voice.

"He is right" Arya said before a fight could erupt. "Angvard almost destroyed in palace after hearing how almost half his army went missing without a single trace. Whatever it was in Dras-Leona, I believe it would be safe if we dealt with it after the war."

"Very well, very well" Eragon nodded as his shock subsided. He then turned to Däthedr, who had only once shifted in his seat. He had not yet uttered a single sound, and his expression did not change as he heard Voriadd's story.

"Well then, Lord Däthedr? What strategy have you devised for our magic users concerning the spirits, should we potentially face any along the way?"

The elven adviser seemed to mull over it for almost a whole minute in total silence, his eyes shifting. Eragon was about to ask him again and tell him to hurry up, when he suddenly began speaking.

"Well, my plan is to first have the mind wards equipped with every magician. That is the easiest and most obvious part. Then, every magic user will-in unison-strike the minds of the spirits, say the word "jierda", and begin draining the spirits of their energy all at once. It will help to spread confusion and once the magicians begin to sense retaliation, they shall withdraw quickly" Däthedr explained. Eragon took the time to write down the plan as the elf slowly explained it in detail.

"And have you finalized the phrases for both creating and extinguishing the mind wards?" Eragon asked.

"Yes. I shall tell you in private, though, as it needs some clarification that I would not like to bore you all with."

"Thank you, then, Lord Däthedr, for your strategy. It is short, yet simple and easy to follow. Ultimately, it is that which shall allow our magicians to succeed" Eragon said. He stowed away the scroll.

"Does anyone else have anything they would like to discuss?" Eragon asked. He was answered with silence. Not even the shaking of any heads.

"Well, this meeting was much shorter than I expected" Eragon sighed. "It is frustrating, really. I feel that you all have a good deal to talk about, and we just end it like this. Ah, well, I guess if there is nothing else of importance, we are all dismissed, then."

They all got up and filed out of the room, Voriadd and his Lethrblaka being the only ones actually talking to each other in their language of bird-like noises.

_I feel like that last bit really annoyed them_, Saphira snorted to Eragon.

_Well, when the big meeting is this short, I have a right to call them out on how much they are holding back!_, he responded.

_I feel as if though this is not the last time this will happen, though_, Saphira told him.

Eragon sighed. He just wished he could feel a bit differently.

_**And there is the first chapter of End Of Extinction. By the way, you have to read The Extinct Ally and Countdown To Extinction first to understand this, honestly. Once again, I AM SORRY about the late publication! I should stop promising things that even I am uncertain of...Oh, and please review. Reviews let me know that you care. A Favorite and Follow might say you like the story, but a review lets me know how the story really is. Questions? Concerns? Complaints? Tell me about it, don't be afraid. I'll see when the next chapter comes along. Happy Spring Break!  
**_


	2. Lessons in History

_**All I can say is "sorry" for the unbelievable-and unreasonable-wait. Procrastinating is a trait that doesn't really work with me. So yeah, here is the second chapter of End Of Extinction. Can't really say much else after this long of a wait (over a year!).**_

End of Extinction

Chapter 2

_It was not even a day until the Greatest Forum would commence, and he already knew what he was going to be saying. Nonetheless, Angvard looked over the finished letter to Korchulan, the ruling god of the humans._

_Sifting through the list of humans whose time was to come on that day, he shoved the letter back under his desk. It was a simple storage method for his argument. He had no desire to actually read it to Korchulan, not just because he would present his argument tomorrow, but that he would be mocked and sneered at anywhere else. At least if he made his case at the Greatest Forum, there would be no chance at mockery and the saying of snide remarks._

_It was a good thing that it was the Greatest Forum. If all of the other gods were to be heard and treated kindly, then there would be no reason for him to be exempt from the rules of polite engagement. He would be listened to for once._

_Angvard stood up from his chair and walked over to his scythe, before he walked out of the study and locked the doors behind him. He would be the last thing four hundred sixty three humans would see in life before they departed for his realm. Eternal twilight would be the first in death._

_EOE_

The last minutes of dusk clung to the sky, painting it a deep shade of orange and purple. Watch fires were being set in and around the city of Aroughs at various checkpoints. Everyone knew who he was, though; none of the soldiers questioned him as he made his way to the courtyard for dinner.

Eragon simply nodded back tot hem when they did the same. The time for words had passed a while ago. Yes, he had killed a Shade and had slayed the former Alagaësian King and Dragon Rider traitor Galbatorix when he had attempted to stave off the rebels from taking Aroughs. But in his mind, he was just the right man in the right place. He had been helped by his half brother Murtagh and his dragon Saphira, not to mention the elven princess Arya. They were all lucky that she had attacked one of the death god Angvard's servants and had therefore been able to come back to life. If not, then it was more than likely that Galbatorix would have killed him and Murtagh.

Urû'baen was the Resistance's next target, and once it had been captured, Belatona was the final city they would attack. Eragon knew that it was pointless trying to take any cities for supplies; rather, the Resistance was striking the formerly large cities of Alagaësia simply to gain ground and deplete Angvard's forces, no matter how many of their own died in the process. He did not think that it was not a big deal and pushed it aside in a vain attempt to comfort himself. Ever the so-called "War of the Undead" had started, more than three hundred thousand Alagaësians had been killed by the barbaric army and monstrous beasts of the insane death god. He had known several of them personally, such as the elven queen and Arya's mother, Islanzadí, who had been killed during the Siege of Feinster by the arrows of Angvard's Army. With less than twelve thousand able soldiers now fighting for the Resistance, it was going to be more than a metaphorical uphill battle to finally defeat Angvard.

He took a seat on one of the benches and stared at his dinner with no small amount of contemplation. The food reflected the increasingly desperate situation the Resistance was in; it was maybe only a dozen beans, an incredibly thin slice of white cheese, and four pieces of hardly cooked lamb. The more time they spent discussing what to do next and arguing amongst each other, the more time Angvard had to come up with new ways to crush them.

With a sigh, Eragon plunged his fork into the beans and quickly ate them in less than ten seconds. It had not even taken him three minutes to finish the meal, so quickly was he eating it that he did not notice the man sitting next to him until he stood up to return his plate and utensils.

"Oh. Hello, Voriadd" he greeted the Ra'zac that had joined them and revealed his long-secret alliance with the Varden, been killed by Galbatorix at Aroughs and turned into one of Angvard's undead slaves, and had been revived when he attacked one of Angvard's servants. He had detested the very existence of the Ra'zac and his older Lethrblaka brother when they had first appeared, his memories of his uncle Garrow's death at the hands of Voriadd's siblings still fresh. He had seen Nasuada's hiding of Voriadd and his brother's alliance with the Varden as a stab in the back; Eragon's opinion of her had dropped dramatically when he learned that her previous anti-Ra'zac rhetoric had been a coverup.

But it was his half-brother Murtagh that made him realize how wrong he was. The realization that he was a bigot had dawned heavily on Eragon when he could not think of any reasons as to how the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka were truly pure evil. He had applied the actions of four creatures to two entire species; he realized that he had never accused the dragons of all being evil just because thirteen of them had sided with Galbatorix.

"Hello, Eragon" Voriadd muttered back while shoving a thick piece of dog meat into his beak. He didn't look up as he said those two simple words.

Curious as to the real nature of the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka, Eragon sat back down and moved a bit closer to Voriadd. To his credit, Voriadd did not seem disturbed by Eragon's odd lack of personal space. He continued to focus on his dinner.

"You said that you read the _Domia abr Wyrda_, right?" Eragon asked him.

Voriadd looked up at him with a confused look on his face, not completely understanding what Eragon was asking him and why.

_Idiot_, Eragon mentally scolded himself, _I could not have made that question come out of nowhere to any greater degree!_

"Umm, er...yes. Why?" Voriadd asked hesitantly.

"You said that Heslant the Monk mostly made up what he said about the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka, right?"

"...Yes, I did. Where is this going, Eragon?"

Eragon leaned in even closer, his face barely a few inches from Voriadd's beak. "I want to know about the real history of the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka."

Voriadd chuckled. "What makes you think, Eragon, that I really know anything about our two species? Do you believe that we inherit memories in our blood like the dragons? Do you even know how many thousands of years ago the humans and our people came to Alagaësia from the southwest?"

"But you were a secret agent of the Varden! Surely, you read some historical accounts in the libraries of the dwarves and elves!" Eragon pressed.

"Fair point" Voriadd nodded. "Yes, as it turns out, my brother and I have read several accounts of life in the southwest lands. All written by long-forgotten Ra'zac scholars, for the humans had become little more than barbarians."

"Become?"

"Indeed. Allow me to start from the beginning, according to the information." Voriadd cleared his throat and placed his utensils on his plate before he started.

"Our people believe that the Ra'zac were created by our chief god, Gerieven, god of the sun and flame. We believe that he created us from the eagle, the anaconda, and the rhinoceros beetle."

"_Rhinoceros_ beetle?" Eragon repeated.

"Yes, it is a large black beetle with amazingly huge mandibles. We named it after a creature from our homeland, the rhinoceros. Large gray beasts with two horns sprouting from above their mouth. Beautiful beasts of burden; I wonder if they are still alive." Voriadd paused before he continued, as if though he was expecting Eragon to interrupt again.

"The Lethrblaka, though, are believed to have been created when Gerieven's mate, the fertility goddess Narezvega looked upon the Ra'zac and took pity on them for being unable to traverse such wide stretches of land. It is she who gave the Ra'zac the ability to mature into a Lethrblaka upon their twentieth birthday when the first full moon arrives. To us, she is the Mother Goddess."

"Did any of the gods instill the craving for human meat in the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka?" Eragon asked.

"No, no, I am getting to that. Now, the ancient humans were believed to have had a magnificent empire tens of thousands of years ago, but they had no writing. They are said to have been arrogant and employed simple drawings to convey their messages. When a civil war broke out amongst them, it was the end of their empire and the end of their dominance. The humans had become animals."

"Now, the Ra'zac's enjoyment of eating human flesh. It is believed that a young Ra'zac had been walking through the forest when he was attacked by several humans. The identity of this Ra'zac has been lost to time, but it is said that he drew his knife and sliced off the face of one of his attackers. This still did not deter them, though, so he decided to start eating the face to scare them away. And sure enough, it did. But that Ra'zac did not stop there. He was overwhelmed by the previously untapped taste of man and completely ate the face before he rushed back to his village to tell everyone of how delicious humans were. At first, they were skeptical and rather horrified, for they still feared the wrath of mankind. But once they started eating the body, they too were filled with euphoria and left practically nothing of the corpse. They even broke open the bones and poured marrow into their cups."

"But if that is the truth, then how did all Ra'zac and Lethrblaka start eating humans?" Eragon asked, growing ever more disgusted.

"Simple. The word was spread to other villages, and soon, the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka were actively hunting all humans. They simply could not get enough of the human meat. But humanity was not so stupid as to cower and hide. They were still loosely organized in tribes scattered across the lands, and these tribes started banding together to fight off potential extinction."

"The humans fought back angrily and mercilessly, and they slaughtered countless Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. Not just the men and women fighting, either. Children, eggs smashed, the sick and disabled. Nobody was safe. But the humans were fighting a pyrrhic war. Even if they had wiped us out, millions of their own had been killed and entire tribes were destroyed. We destroyed their crops and salted the earth around us. It was a hopeless war for your race."

"But then humanity left for Alagaësia" Eragon added, almost whispering.

"Yes, they did. The first human king, the man named Palancar, was a tribe leader. He organized an evacuation of the human race, and when his compatriots protested, he waged a smaller war against the rival tribes, executing their leaders and absorbing their people. It is how he was able to become king of your people, despite the illiteracy of the humans."

"But then what about Nasuada's people? The Wandering Tribes? They are also human" Eragon asked, finding it odd that humanity lived in tribes but were now almost completely under a monarch-or at least, used to be.

Voriadd laughed at that. "The Wandering Tribes-odd members of your race. Some have believed that it is they who started the war that broke the human empire and reduced them to brutes. They fought the Ra'zac as well, but they stood their ground when Palancar began his war of merging. Of all the Ra'zac scholars and historians I've read, our two people could not faced a more tenacious and driven foe. A shame we enjoyed eating them as well."

"So then the humans sailed to this land, and the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka followed."

"Yes, but it was not until some hundred years after the fact. Many humans had decided to stay, and so it was not until the human population was less than a million that the majority of our two species realized that it was time to leave."

"Majority?" Eragon asked with a slight quizzical tilt of his head.

"Quite a few Ra'zac and Lethrblaka still remained in our ancestral lands. They protested the belief that they would wipe out the humans, stating their desire to farm them. The immigrants were not exactly fond of that ideology; of course they enjoyed devouring your kind, but they knew that they were people with their own society and beliefs as well. Thus, most of our people left, while the rest stayed behind."

"What do you think has happened in the Ra'zac homeland?" Eragon asked, hesitantly.

Voriadd looked down at his drink and slowly shook the wooden cup, spinning the liquid inside. Without looking up, he answered, "I hope that the fighting has ended and our races have been able to make peace. Of course, such a concept would be difficult to implement after years of bloodshed, the murder of children, the eating of your people's meat. The most likely outcome of the Ra'zac staying behind is that your race has been wiped out in it's homeland."

Eragon shuddered at the thought while Voriadd poured his drink down his throat. The thought that his race was alive and still fighting in Alagaësia but dead in their homeland was a discouraging, painful one. A whole population of humans butchered and devoured by a fanatical population of the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka, never having the chance to learn to read and write and live alongside their enemies. He could have traveled to the southwest if they won, but now, it seemed that there was not much of a chance to find the humans who stayed behind.

"And you know the rest" Voriadd growled. "The Riders waged a campaign of genocide on my people, Galbatorix made a deal with my two older brother and sister and parents, they killed my grandparents, and my brother and I realized we had no choice but to join the Varden. We had to join in secret; no mere human soldier would want to fight with us."

"Circumstances have changed."

They sat in silence as Voriadd finished his dinner. The Ra'zac rose from his seat and was about to walk off with his plate and cup when Eragon stood and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Why were you so reluctant to tell me about the history of your people?" he asked.

"Because it has all been written by Ra'zac. We have bias as well, Eragon. For all we know, my people could be the most cruel in the world."

And with that, he left. Perhaps those Ra'zac historians were biased and were presenting themselves as tragic figures, similar to how the elves covered up their and the Riders' various crimes. Maybe they wrote lies to explain their murder of humans.

But their accounts were the only ones left in Alagaësia. If they won this war, he would find those accounts and gather them into a single reading compendium, no matter how long it took. The land needed to hear the stories of all it's inhabitants.

_**Sorry for the wait, and for a pretty boring chapter. Don't know when the hell the next chapter is coming, or when it'll get interesting. R&amp;R.**_


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